


Palantíri.

by hennethgalad



Category: The Silmarillion.
Genre: Family., Gen, Valinor.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-28 23:29:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14460180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hennethgalad/pseuds/hennethgalad
Summary: (for SWG challenge 'Rise Above')Nerdanel devises a way to make Palantíri."And yet, still, the number of women is small in comparison to men, and the stories of their lives and actions are less developed, with the exception of Lúthien. Although there were fewer female characters than male characters to begin with in unfinished drafts, Christopher Tolkien nevertheless greatly pruned the number of women, and the accounts of the deeds of the remaining ones, when he sat down to pull together a coherent version of The Silmarillion from all of his father's unfinished texts.". From SWG on Irimë by Oshun.also, C. Tolkien 'decided' that Fëanor created palantíri.





	Palantíri.

 

Palantíri.

 

"Life need not be easy, provided only that it is not empty."

 

 

Nerdanel kept the smile on her face throughout dinner, but her disappointment in her sons, and worse, in her husband, had diminished her joy at the Begetting Day of her youngest sons. The twins drank and sang, laughed and ate, but she knew that they shared her sadness. The long table, gleaming with candles and tempting dainties, stretched between them like an abyss, the untouched goblets and unused plates an accusation.

Had she been too harsh ? Too kind ? Had she held them too close ? Had she driven them hence, weeping ? They would assure her, if she could bring herself to ask, that all was well, and bring out their tales of adventure, as if that could explain to her heart why their love had fallen away. She gritted her teeth, it was one thing for the boys to drift from her side, they had their own lives to live, and she was proud of them. But for Fëanor there could be no excuse. His vows of love had been made freely, and she had believed him. He had spoken often of the love he felt for his sons, and yet his place was empty, on this, the great day in the lives of Amrod and Amras.

 

Nerdanel became aware that silence had fallen. The twins were looking thoughtfully at her. Amras smiled.

"Mother, let us ride forth, now, and you shall sing to us, as you used to do, by the Wells of Varda."

"Oh Mother, do say you will, for there our happiest memories belong."

Nerdanel smiled, her dearest friend Carniel lived close by the Wells, and had brought her own two daughters on many picnics to the shores of Light.

"Very well, and may I invite my old friend Carniel ? She will be honoured to bring her daughters to celebrate Begetting Day with you."

"Of course Mother, you must invite whomever you please." Amras stood, tall and slender; indifferent to the smithy or to weapons, when not at the chase he devoted his time to the study of art, while his brother, the elder by mere minutes, saw his own role as defender of his 'younger' brother. Amrod would stand quietly by, watchful and intent, guarding the labours of his twin, and saying little on his own account, even when questioned. Nerdanel could only hope that love for others would draw them apart, and allow Amrod to flourish fo himself, but she worried that even this would mean only that Amrod changed one charge for another, and would remain as he was, guarding his new love instead of living himself.

 

Carniel had been a pupil of Mahtan before her handsome, golden-haired Vanyar lover had swept her away to Valmar. Her daughters were grown now, tall and fair like their father, but with the busy restlessness of the people of their Noldor mother. Nerdanel smiled as she sent the groom hurrying away, and heard the sound of galloping hooves as the message was carried to Carniel. The boys were right, she thought, only getting far away from the empty table would clear the hurt from their spirits. Let the others find them gone, and rue their own neglect !

She debated confronting Fëanor, but decided to leave him without enduring the angry shouting that always followed any interruption of his Work. She sighed, it was too tiresome, and by the time she had calmed him down enough to understand what she was saying to him, she herself would have lost interest in his opinion of the matter. Her love for him, which at first she had thought timeless, and filling the whole world, had faded into weary indifference. His self-absorption belied his words of love, and more and more she came to feel that he had married her only because of her father, his first teacher, rather than for any love he truly felt for her, or for any other.

 

 

Carniel was small for an Elf, but merry as the birds, blythe and laughing, always ready with a song, and very fond of dancing. But behind the smile her brain moved with cool precision, and she had been an accomplished glass-blower before ever she met her husband. But still, when time permitted, Carniel could be found in her workshop, testing crystals, grinding and heating, tinkering endlessly to find the clearest, hardest glass to sculpt. As one crafter to another, Nerdanel was in awe of the skills of Carniel, who always laughed and pointed out that their work was the same, that only the substances they worked with were different.

 

Hyarnessë and Virya, the daughters of Carniel, stood behind her, smiling with the serenity of their Vanyar upbringing, but with mischief sparkling in their blue eyes. Amrod and Amras exchanged smiles, and held out each a hand to the sisters. As the young people moved away, Carniel grinned at Nerdanel.

"Would it not be wonderful, were they to wed ? How often we could see each other then ! Really, Nerdanel my dear, sometimes I regret leaving Tirion, where so many ideas filled the air, and every day brought a new marvel. Here..." she lowered her voice "Here they think everything is already perfect, and go to great lengths to keep everything exactly as it is. How my spirit chafes ! At times I feel like an insect, trapped in the resin of a tree for so long that it has dried into stone. I cannot believe..." her voice fell to a whisper "I cannot believe that this is the final shape that Eru intended for the world, I feel" she clenched her fist, and held it to her heart "I truly believe that the work is incomplete, that we should strive to improve all that we can, that this time of stillness is but a moment in a turbulent stream, that we must labour to be prepared for whatever may come."

 

"What do you mean ? Have you foreseen doom ?" Nerdanel was almost laughing as she spoke, for the Valar were there, unassailable and kind, protecting and cherishing the Eldar. What shadow of fear could reach them, beneath the Trees ?

Carniel frowned. "I do not foresee, it is a question of logic. Those who strive to maintain things exactly as they are will be shocked when things change. They will not be calm, they will make errors, in thought and word and deed. It is inevitable. And I do not doubt that there will be change. For though nothing can hurt the Valar, yet we may be slain ourselves."

 

Nerdanel gasped in shock, to hear such words, spoken so calmly, was beyond her experience. It was unbelievable to hear them in Valmar. She gazed with round eyes at Carniel. "Slain ? Who has been saying these things to you ?"

Carniel laughed "Oh Nerdanel ! You are too swayed by your awe for the majestic Finwë and his mighty son Fëanor. But you were called Wise before ever your path crossed theirs. Only think, my dear, of time. This land is large, yes, but the Light is dim, to North and South, and few would leave here. Yet if we would live as we do, and bring children into the world, then in time, our people will become numerous, but our land... our lands will not grow greater."

Nerdanel stopped, watching absently as her boys drew farther away down the glittering road, singing with the fair daughters of Carniel. Their bright robes, sparkling gems and shining hair glowed in the golden Light, as Laurelin waxed. A few grazing deer crossed their path, and they paused, turning back to smile at their mother, then frowning at her pale shocked face. Amrod made to move towards her, but she lifted her hand and shook her head. He raised his brows and smiled, then led the others away.

 

The numbers opened like a scroll before the mind of Nerdanel the Wise, and the inevitability of growth and change seemed to become visible to her for the first time. Her sons were close to Finwë, though he himself was as remote as a Vala. But what of her grandsons, and their grandsons... The numbers climbed like the clouds of Taniquetil, she raised a hand to her brow, to ease the pain, or to block the view...

"You speak truly Carniel. Change will come, as our numbers grow. But will our children not bring more beauty to the world when they come ?"

"Of course ! But those who struggle to have everything just so, forever, will not face the truth. They will not listen... Consider the ring. One ring is an adornment. A ring on every finger is for a character in a farce. Many rings on each finger would be as chains."

 

Nerdanel blushed, there were few indeed who had borne as many children as she, but her unspoken desire to have a daughter had led her to acquiesce to the pride of Fëanor, and now, exhausted, she had her seven sons and no daughter. She felt a pang of guilt, was it because Carniel had two daughters that Nerdanel had remained close to her ? But no, Carniel had been her friend as they had sat together on the floor of the smithy as infants, playing with scraps. But her personal feelings faded into insignificance before the unknowable future.

 

"What do you think will happen ?" she said finally. Carniel shook her head.

"I cannot say, I have no foresight. But when my daughters have left me, it is my purpose to pass time in the gardens of Irmo, for I have laboured too long with the furnace. My spirit seeks growth, the growth it feels all around, and it may be that in rest and dream I shall find the clarity to interpret my foreboding."

Nerdanel nodded "It is you who are Wise, Carniel, it would please me greatly to accompany you on your quest, with your leave."

"Oh, will you ? Stars shine upon us all ! I did not dare to ask... But truly Nerdanel, it may be that together we shall find a way to, well, to explain to people what lies ahead, to warn them of the peril of our path. But those who will not listen, those for whom everything must be exactly as it was, forever, they will be enraged."

Nerdanel laughed suddenly "Then they must take their grievances to the Valar, who will mock their folly. Oh Carniel, how I have missed you ! The Nodor are as bad as the Vanyar, though in a different way. The Vanyar ignore the future, set on preserving the moment, while the Noldor ignore the future as they, as we, focus on our craft. Eru must be very disappointed in his children."

Carniel nodded. "Unless we act. But it may be that we Eldar are but a practice piece, and that those who are to come will be the masterpiece, and surpass us in every way."

Nerdanel nodded, it was a widely held view that the second children of Eru would outshine the Eldar, as the Trees outshone the stars, though none could say whence this tale had sprung. Eru himself was silent, and the Valar claimed to know nothing. But among the Noldor, thinking as crafters, the notion that Eru could create children who were less perfect than the Elves had never crossed their minds.

 

 

The forest was as a green wall beside the road, as they approached the Wells. Bright birds sang, the sky was filled with flocks of different hue and shape, long trailing feathers rippled in the light wind, and wide wings lay spread on the uplifting air, while below, the tiny jewelled songbirds flitted to and fro, their high voices filling the air with music. Colourful lizards swivelled strange eyes as the Elves passed, monkeys twirled their tails round branched and watched the singing, as deer of every kind pushed through the thick undergrowth, idly picking at the freshest leaves. A deep growl came from their left, and all heads turned hopefully, but the great cats were rarely seen by any save those who studied their ways.

The Lawns of Varda were kept free of all but smooth turf where children were brought to play in the Light. The Lawns were quiet, the people of Carniel waited by a laden table, and served them the simple, but exquisite delicacies of the Vanyar. Nerdanel, who knew her sons well, smiled to see them eating with relish and warmly thanking Carniel for her hospitality. The feast that she herself had ordered had been an altogether hardier affair, with great dishes of mushroom and truffle stew, and crusty bread, with a peach pie and a rich fruit cake. Nerdanel sipped her pale wine and sighed, trying to ease the tightness from her sinews. Her eyes met the cool grey eyes of Carniel, who nodded slightly. Nerdanel knew that there was more to say, while the young ones sported after lunch.

They smiled as they watched their children, now grown to adulthood, yet still fresh as the sea air. The four young Elves were throwing a ball, the game was elaborate, and each generation had made new rules, and there were many arguments between those of different ages as to what counted as 'out'. But here all was laughter, until Amrod twisted his ankle, and limped towards the table to have it strapped up. Amras beckoned Carniel with a smile, and she shook her head, then sighed, feigning reluctance, and skipped across the grass to catch the ball, already flying through the air towards her.

 

Nerdanel sang the Healing Song as she wrapped the bandage around her son’s strong ankle. They had always been sturdy, the twins, thinking nothing of a tumble, ready for any adventure, or any song. She was filled with tenderness, and reached up to touch his cheek. His eyes, which had been gazing idly at nothing, focused on hers, and he frowned.

"What is it, Mother ?"

"What would you like for your Begetting Day ? What gift could I give you, my dearest Amrod ? For now that I see you here, by the Wells of Light, where we have spent so many happy times, I see that you are grown indeed, and I would give you a worthy gift. And if your wish is beyond my skills, yet still I would have you name it, that in all I do I may strive to further the wish of your heart."

Amrod laughed "Mother, I would be king ! You know that. But of course, Grandfather is king. But, well, at times... At times I see a strange green country, it may be far to the North, for the Light is strangely dim... and the trees are strange, sparse... It is colder than home, and lonelier, but I am king... " He shook himself briefly, then smiled at Nerdanel "It is only a dream." he frowned again "But it is not the dream I would choose ! I would be king of a city as fair as Tirion, as green as Valmar and as lovely as Alqualondë, not the bleak hills of my frail imagination." He laughed at the astonishment on the face of Nerdanel. "I know, I might as well say 'I want to be Finarfin'. Finwë is king, and always will be. And of course, I could never leave you, or Amras, or Father, or our brothers, or, well, everyone and everything ! Is it not glorious here !" He stretched his arms, basking in the Light, his head thrown back, his smooth red brown hair hanging down behind him to brush the grass. Nerdanel laughed and stood up behind him, and scooped up the sweet smelling hair, brushing grass and leaves from it, then stroking her son's forehead as he sat up smiling. But the words of Carniel echoed in her mind, and the restlessness of the Noldor spirit had Amrod turning already to watch the game.

 

"Things will change." she suddenly blurted, and Amrod looked at her in surprise.

"Of course they will, Mother, my twin and I are adults now, and he at least longs to find love. I am more interested in... well, in finding out more about the world. I feel so young, especially when I talk to Grandfather, or even Celegorm, who has been everywhere."

"Yes, you understand me. But there is more. You will not be alone in your restlessness, nor your ambition. Your brothers are proud, your cousins also, and many more begin to chafe. Carniel points out that as time passes, this land will fill with our people, and our granchildren, and their grandchildren..."

Amrod gaped at her, suddenly picturing Valinor filled from edge to edge with the dwellings of the myriad Eldar, the forests cut down for hearth and forge, the wild meadows bright with flowers covered with endless rows of cabbage. He tried to leap to his feet, forgetful of the injury to his ankle, then yelped and sat down hastily.

Nerdanel gripped his arm for a moment, then filled his goblet. He sighed and drank the cool wine, breathing in the hot wind from the Wells. The Light had no scent, not even the clean wash of the wind from a river, nor the salt sharpness of the sea. But the warmth soothed the skin, eased the sinews, made the back stretch and the toes uncurl. Amrod seemed to heal as she watched him, the glow of good health returned to his pale cheeks, his dark lashes ceased their anxious fluttering, and he smiled again.

"Ha, I would be king, and guide a people, but I cannot even remember to spare my own injured foot."

Nerdanel laughed, then looked up as Carniel hastened towards them.

 

Her hands were cupping something protectively, and she paused in front of Nerdanel, dragging a chair behind her with her foot and sitting carefully down. She looked attentively at Nerdanel.

"Varda's Crystals ?" Nerdanel asked. Carniel nodded

"There is a cluster of offspring crystals, I have never seen so many before."

Carniel opened her hands, even Amrod leaned forwards to look. The crystal had eight sides, it was clear as water, and smooth, like salt, but larger, much larger. On every side, growing like branches on a tree, tiny replicas of the original crystal grew.

 

Everyone knew the crystals, most of the time they were single gems; they flourished at the lip of the Wells, where the Light ebbed and flowed, leaving its unseen traces, shadows made solid, on the walls of the vats. But the Elves who had plucked such crystals from the vats had been disappointed, for they melted like snowflakes, or dissolved like salt in water, and nothing could be done to preserve them.

The crystals had a strange quality. The offspring were so much a part of the original that when they were broken off and carried away, still the Light in the vat around the original crystal could be seen. Or if that crystal were itself removed, the offspring crystals would then show what could be seen in the original. Many had dreamed of making use of such a quality, but the fleeting nature of the crystals made study of their effects very trying. Furthermore, the offspring crystals were scarce, for the Trees ebbed and flowed in brightness with a pattern beyond the wit of even those who studied such matters. It was a rare combination of ebb and flow which caused the crystals to form offspring.

"Carniel ! Glass ! We could store them in glass ! I can see a way... You must send for your tools, we must build a small forge, here, and I shall need some things from my workshop."

 

 

The aides galloped back down the path, clutching long lists of things they had never heard of. Amrod tugged at his Mother’s sleeve as Carniel, who had understood at once what was intended, though she could not yet see how, hurried away to explain to her daughters, and to Amras, who still, leaning over the edge of the Well, his face shining in the Light, was carefully removing another crystal.

"Mother, what are you doing ?" Amrod asked Nerdanel. She turned to him distractedly "Oh Amrod, I cannot explain it to you now, I must build a furnace. But we shall attempt to preserve the crystals, for I have been working with the fumes of certain rocks, which my efforts to find new colours of paint have made. "

Amrod wrinkled his nose, his Mother’s workshop could be quite unpleasant at times. His Father produced a different kind of unpleasantness, Amrod wondered what rocks were being ground in the spirit of Fëanor. Distracted, he missed the explanation his Mother blurted out, but smiled as she stooped to kiss his brow, and soon was gathering fallen branches while the daughters of Carniel gathered stones.

Amras was cutting turf, leaving bare soil, as the sisters brought stones and laid them in the shallow hole. There was a clay bank in the nearby stream, and as Amrod carefully built up the sides of the small furnace with the stones they brought him, Nerdanel worked the clay into smoothness and filled the gaps between the stones. They had lit the fire when the aides returned, together, in a small cart.

 

They all helped to unpack the cart, and set up tables on trestles, spreading out tools, chests, bottles with glass stoppers, and bundles of scrolls. Amrod sat with a wry smile, tending the fire. He had expected their father to ignore Begetting Day, but not their Mother. Nerdanel, normally so attentive, was engrossed in her work, and the great occasion forgotten completely. He sat up, stretched his back again and drank some wine. He loved his Mother dearly, and it was warming to see her eagerly hurry to and fro, preparing for whatever alchemy she would perform. Carniel, her lively friend, had assumed an air of Vanyar gravity, each movement precise and controlled. There was an unforgiving quality to glasswork, for though the metal would endure a mistimed blow, the glass would not.

Amrod looked at Carniel with renewed respect, and thought of a new way to taunt their father. It was the mission, duty and purpose of the sons of Fëanor to challenge their infuriatingly proud Father, to find something, anything, that he could not do, and challenge him to become master of the skill. It was not a task that they had spoken of, even among themselves, but they understood each other, and they knew their Father.

 

They fed the furnace for hours, filling it with the charcoal brought in the cart, and leaving Amrod to watch it while they ate all that they had not eaten at lunchtime, finding their appetites renewed by their labour. Carniel asked if anyone wanted to leave, but none did, fascinated by the novelty of the game, and intrigued at what two such skilled crafters could achieve by working together. They were young, and full of vigour, it was like play, bathed in the warm Light, watching the birds and small creatures gathering round the table for crumbs.

 

They rested quietly after lunch, Hyarnessë sang softly of Lorien, and Amrod scooped wet clay onto the furnace where a crack was forming. Amras looked at the curved cheeks of the daughter of Carniel and thought of how pleasant it would be to hear her sing to him again, not just today, but every day. He leaned his elbows on the arms of his chair, folded his fingers together and rested his chin on his hands, like a child in the schoolroom. Nerdanel suppressed a smile and sighed, there was much still to be done. The others looked up as she rose to her feet, then stood beside her. She hurried off to set up another trestle, between the furnace and the Well, and carried over the preparations she had made for the last steps, which would have to be undertaken with the precision of dancing, or of music itself.

 

They worked as one, Nerdanel and Carniel, needing few words, their hands and steps hovering over the glass as Amras, with all the delicacy he could master, carried the largest crystal to the table, where Nerdanel doused it in a foul smoke, then carefully severed each of the eight offspring crystals. Carniel, moving with the grace of a Vala, gently set each offspring in a hollow in the centre of each glass cup, and Nerdanel poured in more of the smoke. The smoke seemed to flow like liquid, like Light, but thick, grey brown, impenetrable. It covered each offspring crystal, then Carniel, swifter than thought, covered the halves with their matching halves, and sealed the glass balls shut. Amras frowned and looked curiously at his brother, he had heard that their Mother had explained, but Amrod looked no less puzzled than himself. The smoke was still thick, the crystals invisible in the haze. But as Carniel finished the surfaces of the glass balls, her face looked expectant, and they understood that she expected the fume to clear.

 

 

"It was chance that led me to find the smoke. If chance it be... But I could see no purpose to it, until we came here today. It would not have entered my thoughts even then, had you not been here, Carniel. We miss you in Tirion ! Your mind is wasted on these dull Vanyar, so certain that they know everything, so certain that everything they do is exactly the right thing. They do not heed the words of Ulmo, who would have had our folk remain across the Ocean." Nerdanel blinked, realising that she had forgotten that the husband of Carniel, the father of her daughters, was of the Vanyar himself. " I ask your pardon, I spoke without thought, distracted by my own impatience."

Carniel laughed "Forgive you ! I was thinking of ways to thank you. We have taught my girls more in one day than years of dull reading ever could. But tell me, if we have succeeded, what have we made ? Do you know ?"

Nerdanel shook her head, "If... The smoke works on many things, but it also alters much of what it touches. You may be left with much useless glass..."

"Not useless ! If the smoke persists, we shall not even need crystals, people will long to see a stone filled with smoke. But it may be that the smoke will consume the crystals..." They speculated for some time, Hyarnessë sang again, and Nerdanel watched as Amras followed the moves of the girl with his eyes, forgetful of his own face. Nerdanel wondered if Hyarnessë were aware of the attention, then saw the small smile of amusement on the smooth gentle face, and grinned - this was the daughter of Carniel, her mind a match for even Curufin.

She thought of Fëanor; for one so clever, he could be astonishingly stupid. He seemed not to have learned the simplest lessons of mood and self-restraint, or even how to breathe easily. His rage seemed only to grow, but she could not see why. He had everything, but he seemed to feel only fury. She shook her head, glad to be free of him, glad to bask in the Light, with her friend and their children, and wine and song.

 

After a time Carniel held up her hand, and gestured with the other. One of the glass balls was almost transparent, they leaned over close, trying to see the shape of the crystal, wondering what it would show, if anything. As the other balls cleared, the first ball became clearer, but still they could not tell. Finally, when nothing could be seen but the strangeness of light through the glass, Nerdanel picked up one of the heavy balls and handed it to Amras who stood.

"Will you take this glass into the shade, and tell us what you see ?"

 

 

Amras exclaimed in awe, and shouted with delight, holding the glass above his head, visible even in the deep shade of the thick forest, in the gold and silver Light that poured forth from the glass in his hand. Nerdanel leaped to her feet, gripping her hands together in delight too great for speech, but Carniel had thrown both arms around her and hugged her tightly.

"You have done it, Nerdanel the Wise ! You have preserved Varda’s Crystals ! All will sing of this worthy deed. It may be that Varda herself will be pleased."

"But Mother, will the crystal last ?"

"I cannot say, my dear, they are little known, we cannot study them, we do not understand their qualities. But it may be that in the fine strong glass of Carniel, they have found a place that will be safe for them."

"As safe as Valinor !" said Amras stoutly, proud of his skillful Mother. The daughters of Carniel each took a glass and hurried in different directions into the forest. There was silence from them for a time, then a shout of delight, then another, and they ran back, careless as children.

"Mother, lady Nerdanel ! We saw each other in the glass ! We thought to see the Light, but we saw each other, holding a glass, in the forest !"

Nerdanel rose slowly to her feet and looked wide-eyed at Carniel.

"In the name of Varda, what have we made ?"

 

 

 


End file.
